Letting one arm drop from around my shoulders, he pulled out his phone and started going through the texts first.
By the way his chest bounced, I could tell they were amusing him greatly.
A sound from his phone had me turning and looking at the video playing. I couldn’t see much, my eyes were still really blurry, but I could tell just by the big white dress that it was of someone getting married.
“Do you, Mr. Killian Red Spurlock take Ms. Vidalia Elise Sheffield to be your lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold, from this day forward.” The biker in leathers asked.
My breathing stalled in my chest, and I gasped looking at my finger. Sure enough, I had a ring. A ring shaped like one side of a handcuff.
Reaching out quickly, I found one on Trance’s finger, too, only much, much larger.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
“I now pronounce you biker and wife. You may kiss your old lady.” The priest/biker said.
The video ended, and Trance went to the next video, which was of us riding out of the chapel on a rented Harley.
“That’s awesome.” I gasped in excitement. “Do you think they took a wedding video?”
Trance’s eyes met mine, and the emotion in them was nerve wracking.
Excitement. Hope. Love. Reluctance. Joy.
They all flitted through his eyes rapidly, and I was left knowing he needed to hear my reassurance.
“I love you, Trance.” I said into his eyes.
His head bowed, and he rested his cheek against my own before replying. “I love you more, cupcake.”
***
Foster and Miller didn’t look any better than we did. Although they weren’t wearing any wedding rings like we were, so that was a plus.
They were both wearing camo fatigues and annoying smiles.
“There’s the newlyweds!” Foster called loudly, making everyone in the vicinity turn and watch our progression.
We were walking down into the hotel lobby about to catch a ride to Trance’s parents’ house.
Trance sighed and pulled me behind him, giving me an up close and personal view of the cut on his back.
It was fairly simple. The top patch, or rocker like Trance liked to call it, was curved with The Dixie Wardens embroidered on it. The bottom ‘rocker’ said Louisiana. There was a small patch to the side that said simply ‘MC.’ The last thing was the wraith like woman wearing a long flowing dress. The entire thing was done in shades of black, white, and grey.
On our way out of the hotel room earlier, Trance had told me he’d already started the club’s resident seamstress on making me a vest of my own.
I still wasn’t too sure what I thought about the whole ‘ownership’ thing, but I believed in the saying ‘whatever makes him happy.’ My own father had come from a MC, and I vaguely knew the ins and outs of the club life. I knew what getting involved with a club member meant, and I was happy to do it.
That wasn’t to say I was completely comfortable with it all, though.
“Hey sister.” Miller said before he pulled me into a bear hug.
I hugged him back tight, enjoying getting to see him again.
Foster was the next to engulf me in a hug, and I giggled when he shook me like I weighed nothing.
The smile that lit my face when they both hugged me in turn made Trance smile, and then his face fell.
“Where’s Radar?” He shouted.
Miller and Foster both turned and started bellowing in laughter. “Oh man, you were so drunk last night. Mom and dad took Radar home with them because they didn’t trust us with his safety.”
“How do you remember everything?” I asked suspiciously.
He shrugged. “Been drunk a lot over my thirty two years. I can hold my own. Trance, there, outdid himself last night though. He was plastered before he got off the plane,. Which we expected. The boy doesn’t fly well.”
“Even though he was in the air force, might I add?” Foster said gleefully.
Trance narrowed his eyes at his two brothers. “I was MP. They don’t fly.”
They both shrugged and led their way out to a brand spankin’ new Challenger. It was cherry red with white racing stripes. I fell in love as soon as I saw it. I’d always hoped that my dad would get me a Hunter Green Camaro when I was sixteen, but then the accident had happened and any hope or dream of driving a vehicle flew out the window.
“Nice car,” I said as I trailed my fingertips along the fender.
Foster smiled at me. “This is my baby. It isn’t driven much. I keep it parked in my mom’s garage while we’re on missions. She’s the love of my life.”
The ride to their parents’ house took around thirty minutes as they lived on the outskirts of the city. They pulled up into a quiet, mid-income level subdivision, and parked in front of a perfect little cookie cutter house.
“This looks like a house that would be off a Christmas card.” I mused as I stepped out onto the spongiest grass I’d ever felt. I could totally take a nap on that grass.
All three men walked up the front walk and walked inside as if they still lived with their parents.
Then each walked straight into the kitchen, grabbed a beer, and took a seat at the island bar where an older version of the three men stood, also drinking a beer.
It was very obvious that this was their father. Hell, he could nearly be an older brother.
His hair was curly and blonde like his sons, but it was also silver around the edges.
He was in shape like his sons, but you could tell the muscles weren’t quite as hard, nor quite as toned.
And Jesus, those dimples.
As soon as he saw me he smiled, and I mourned the fact that I didn’t remember our first visit.
“Viddy, my dear,” he said in his deep baritone voice. “I’m glad you could come.”
His smile was contagious, and I gave him one of my own before leaning against Trance’s side. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Micah.” Trance whispered into my ear, tickling my neck and ear with his breath.
I winked at him and returned my attention to Sloan, who came bustling in the room on the heels of Radar. When she got close enough, Micah snuck an arm out and wrapped it around her waist, stopping her before she could make it around the counter.
“Oh, you look even prettier today than you did yesterday. Thank you so much for letting me walk you down the aisle.” She gushed.
My eyes widened and I looked over to Trance who was just as surprised as I was. “Uh, ma... we don’t really remember what happened yesterday.”
She looked astounded at that announcement. “Had you been drinking? You seemed like you were of perfectly sound mind to me. Micah, oh no, they regret it!”
By the time she was done with her tirade, she was wringing her hands and looking quite a bit upset. Her face looked crestfallen, and she was on the verge of tears.
“We don’t regret it, ma. It would’ve happened sooner or later, in any case. It was just a surprise. Did you take pictures?”
“Oh yes, you got the deluxe package. The one that came with matching tattoos.” She beamed. “I’ll go get those now.”
“So...” Micah started. “When do I get grandchildren?”
***
I don’t know what made me check. Call it intuition. Call it a sixth sense. Call me curious.
But after the third and final trashcan, a peek under the bed, behind the bed, on the couch, under the couch, and nearly every other hidden surface where things could hide, I was officially worried.
“What are you doing?” Trance finally asked as I walked in front of the TV for the fifth time.
I turned to him, startled that he’d actually noticed me, and froze.
His eyes narrowed on my fish expression, and he sat up from his lounge on the bed. “What?”
I shook my head. “I can’t find the evidence.”
“The evidence of what?” he asked in exasperation.
“Of...of our...love fest.” I stuttered out.<
br />
His eyebrows rose as I said the words, and then a mocking grin tilted up the corner of his mouth. “Why do you think we had a...love fest?” He asked, emphasizing the last two words as if they were some dirty obscenity.
“It hurts.” I explained patiently.
“What hurts?”
Oh my God I was going to slap him. He knew exactly what hurt.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I glared at him when I said, “My vagina.”
“So it’s a little bit sore...or a lot sore?” He teased.
My eyes narrowed, and I threw the closest thing I could at him, which happened to be a snow globe of the Las Vegas nightlife.
He caught it easily and stared at me. “What’s the big deal? So what? We’re married.”
My mouth opened and closed twice before I finally calmed down enough to realize that it really wasn’t that big of a deal.
“Now, come here and rest. I want to finish this movie and then we’ll go to sleep. Give your vagina time to rest from our love fest. We’ve got an early day tomorrow. I want to show you some of my old haunts.”
I laid down in bed with him reluctantly, but he must’ve known me better than myself, because as soon as my head met his chest, I was out like a light.
Chapter 18
How do you know you’re a police wife? Bullets in the washing machine.
-Viddy to Adeline
“Is that the last of it?” I asked Trance as he, Sebastian, Kettle, Loki, and Silas brought one last box in a piece.
“Yep. We got it all. What are you doing?” He looked at me.
I set the hand full of bullets that I’d collected from the washing machine only moments before on the table.
“I washed one of your clips. I haven’t found the clip, yet. But I found five bullets. How many were in the clip so I know when I’ve found them all?” I asked.
A smile tilted up the corner of his mouth. “9.”
I nodded. “Got it.”
“Nice shirt.” He said as his eyes focused on my boobs.
I looked down and then back up, fluttering my eyes at him. “It’s new.”
The shirt said, ‘Cops like big busts,’ and I’d gotten it with him specifically in mind.
“I got it in the mail today. Along with a few others.” I said.
“They all like that one?” He asked, looping his finger around the belt loop of my jeans and pulling me until I was plastered up against his side.
“Maybe.” I hedged.
He grinned devilishly and gave me a peck on the lips before putting the box he had in his hand down next to the other boxes on the far wall.
“Are you wearing that to the city council meeting?” He asked.
I gave him a ‘are you kidding me’ look and walked into the bedroom where I stripped out of my jeans, t-shirt, and socks. Then I slipped into a purple long sleeved shirt and black dress pants.
I didn’t want to look like a slouch when I went up there to fight for Radar’s life.
Trance had made the decision to go up there, not in uniform, but in his Dixie Wardens cut. I’d fully supported him. I’d have worked my property patch, too, if it’d been ready.
Sadly, it was still in two pieces, according to Minnie, the one who was making the vest for me.
I would stand at Trance’s side. I was very proud of everything he did, and I wanted to make sure everyone in the town of Benton knew it.
“You ready, baby?” Trance asked from the doorway.
I turned around and handed him the hairband I was trying to tie onto the end of my braid.
I’d learned pretty quick that the best way to tame my long locks while on the back of Trance’s motorcycle, was to make sure I had my hair plaited down my back. Once we got there, I’d undo it from its braid, since Trance liked it down.
“Yes,” I said. “Just need to use the facilities and put some deodorant on.”
He nodded in agreement. “Okay, meet me outside when you’re ready.”
When he left, I went and picked up Hemi’s favorite stuffed chew toy, stuffed it into my bag, and walked out of the house, setting the alarm and locking it behind me.
Trance was already mounted on his bike, and I walked quickly towards him, anxious to get the meeting over with.
The decision to leave Radar at home was a difficult one. Trance had thought it’d be best to keep him at home, just in case. I’d argued that it’d be best for the town to see what a well-behaved dog Radar was, but I was overruled. Overall, it was Trance’s decision, and I wanted him to be comfortable at this meeting.
Once I mounted the bike behind Trance, he handed me my helmet and I strapped it into place. When I wrapped my arms around his chest, Trance took off out of his driveway, heading to the town proper.
We arrived at a quarter ‘til six, and walked inside. Trance and I were flanked by Sebastian and Loki. Behind us was Kettle and Dixie. In front of us was Silas.
I was beyond surprised to see the men of Free as we passed, and I waved to Shiloh as Trance dragged me in his wake. She waved back and gave me a reassuring smile before I lost sight of her. When we reached the front, Trance gestured to a seat that was in the very corner of the room that allowed the largest view of the room and exits.
Which I’d found was normal for Trance. Anytime we went out to eat, he always placed his back to the wall, and made sure he knew where all the exits were. As did his brothers and club members.
Now that I think about it, the men of Free were in the same spot, just in the very back corner giving them a view of the room and a quick exit if needed.
I shook my head. Alphas. They were all the same.
“What’re you shaking your head for?” Trance asked, not trying in the least to keep his voice down.
Most of the town attended, and they all were watching us avidly. As if we were a spectacle to be ogled.
Which made me want to squirm. I hated being the center of attention. It always made me feel like they were judging me. ‘Hey, look at that blind girl, there. She can’t even match her clothes for herself.’
Not that that was much of a problem anymore, but back then it used to be. I’d always hear the whispers, and the not so whisper whispers. They thought they were being conspicuous, but they weren’t.
“The fact that you have to have your back to a wall.” I said quietly.
He lifted his head in understanding. “I like to see what’s coming at me.”
I was intelligent enough to understand that without him telling me, but I’d let him have the illusion that he was telling me something new.
Silas stood in the corner beside my seat, leaning against the wall with one beefy shoulder.
He was pretty awesome looking today.
He was wearing faded blue jeans with a cut off grey t-shirt. His cut was on over the tee, and his beard. My God his beard. There were really no words. It was long, almost to his chest, and braided. The hair tie at the bottom of the braid was red, standing out starkly against the grey.
He had a red bandana covering up his gray close cropped hair, and a pair of wrap around sunglasses that covered up his pale hazel eyes.
He must’ve sensed my perusal because he looked down, caught my stare, and smirked at me.
“What?” He rumbled softly.
I shook my head. “Nothing. I was just thinking I really would hate to talk to you. You come off as unapproachable.”
He nodded in understanding. “That’s the way it’s been for many years. I won’t be stopping now.”
The clanging of the gavel brought my attention to the ‘judge-like table at the front of the room with seven primly dressed individuals. Three women and four men.
The crowd around us quieted, and my eyes locked on the panel of judges who would be deciding Radar’s fate.
***
“All I’m saying is that it would be best for the city of Benton not to have Radar on the payroll anymore.” Eleanor, panelist number seven, said.
My eyes narrowed on the woman that wa
s spouting all of that nonsense.
Without putting much thought into it, I stood and walked to the podium in the middle of the room.
I ignored the growl of disapproval by every single person that was a member of The Dixie Wardens, and stopped when I got to the microphone.
Panelist number seven kept speaking about how horrible it would be if Radar killed someone who was just passing by and what kind of lawsuits that could bring the city when I interrupted her.
“Excuse me,” I cleared my throat.
The seven members, who were all shaking their heads in understanding, stopped what they were doing and regarded me with a range of expressions. Some were annoyed, others were bored, while one was openly hostile. That being panelist number seven.
“I’d like to tell you about Radar if you’ll let me.” I said softly, really working the fragile woman card.
They also didn’t know I wasn’t ‘blind’ anymore. And I wouldn’t be enlightening them.
“And who are you?” Eleanor snarled.
“My name is Vidalia Elise Spurlock. Officer Killian Spurlock is my husband.” I said softly.
Eleanor hissed at the mention of my husband. “And what would you like to enlighten us about, Mrs. Spurlock?”
She said Mrs. Spurlock with so much venom that a normal person would’ve taken a step back. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.
“Do you work, ma’am?” I asked her.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Yes, I do. I’m my husband’s secretary at his law firm that he shares with another partner.”
“If your husband were to ask you to, say...make him some coffee, would you do it?” I asked.
Her head tilted, wondering where I was going with this line of questions, but she inevitably answered, not suspecting the trap. “Yes, sure. I do that every day.”
“What about if your husband has a suspected rapist to defend. Would you take him a cup of coffee?” I asked.
She looked a little nervous but nonetheless answered. “Umm, I’d be a little uncomfortable with that.”
I nodded in understanding. “Yes, I would be too. How about this. If someone came into your husband’s office, and was wielding a knife, would you put yourself in front of the knife wielder to protect your husband?”
Kevlar to My Vest Page 20